


Ticklish

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Five Times Sam Washed Bumblebee [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: sunshine</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ticklish

The sun shone down on Sam Witwicky, laying spread-eagled upon the deck chair he’d set out upon his parents’ front lawn. Everything was still, filled with the usual sounds of his neighbourhood, lawnmowers, muted music from the kids across the road, dogs yapping nearby. All in all, general neighbourly noises certainly beat the sounds of battling Autobots and Decepticons, bombs and high octane blasts scorching the air around him. He’d already lived through three such battles, and he wondered if he’d ever see a peaceful life again. With his continued alliance with the Autobots, he severely doubted it.

He squinted up into the sunshine and the clear blue skies, when he heard the familiar sound of a burbling engine coming closer. Sam was smiling before Bumblebee even pulled into the driveway, his friend and Autobot guardian just as familiar and welcome as he always was. Sam always felt safer when Bumblebee was around, knowing the giant Autobot wouldn't harm him or allow harm to come to him. Of course, Bumblebee had almost died trying to protect him on more than one occasion and Sam would never forget that. Even though Sam, in his own way, had helped to save the world on three occasions, it still didn't feel enough to repay Bumblebee’s continued friendship or kindness shown towards him.

“Hey, Bee,” he called when the Autobot idled to a stop nearby.

“Gooooooood Morning, Vietnaaaaaaaam,” blasted Robin Williams’ voice from Bumblebee’s car radio.

Sam sighed, feeling frustrated on the Autobot’s behalf that his vocal resonators still hadn’t been fixed yet. He wondered if they ever would be. He shrugged to himself then, and decided that it really didn’t matter either way. They still managed to communicate with one another just fine and that was all that mattered to Sam. Bumblebee was still his friend.

Then he took in the atrocious state of Bumblebee’s metalwork, the splashes of mud and grass that spattered his black and yellow sides. Sam winced, knowing that if Bumblebee was really the Camaro that he appeared to be, he knew he would never let his car get in that state. Then he thought to ask Bumblebee something.

“Say, Bee, why don’t you let me wash you?” he asked, curiously, getting up to pad over to the Autobot’s side.

“I’m not sure - I’m not sure I should let you do that, sir,” crackled an unknown film quote through Bumblebee's radio.

“Oh, come one, Bee. It’ll be like male bonding or something. Look at you, you’re filthy,” Sam said, as he streaked his hand through the mud that splattered Bumblebee’s passenger side door.

“Okay, then,” Bumblebee said, choosing a quote that sounded almost despondent.

“It’ll be fun, I promise. Don’t sound so down-hearted,” Sam chided him, before he disappeared into the garage.

He came out again, some moments later, carrying a filled bucket of water, slopping with frothy white bubbles. Sam was glad that Bumblebee hadn’t decided to take off and escape the unusual; instead the Autobot was waiting patiently. It seemed as though Bumblebee’s earlier despondency was more for the fact that it was an unusual idea, rather than it being a bad idea to bond. Sam knew that Bumblebee had willingly chosen to stay with him, apparently because he liked him or so Sam figured. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

“Let me do this, okay? I wanna do something for you for a change,” Sam told him, as he slopped the sponge onto the striped hood.

Bumblebee only responded with random blasts of James Brown tunes, making Sam grin with confused amusement. Sometimes, Bumblebee's choice of messages were apt, while at other times, hard to decipher. He figured that Bumblebee must be happy, if he was playing something upbeat and funky.

It wasn’t until he reached a part of Bumblebee’s roof, somewhere akin to the small of the Autobot’s back, when suddenly, laughing children blasted out of the radio. Sam stopped scrubbing, and the children stopped laughing, When he picked up the sponge again and started to scrub once more, the children began laughing again.

“Bee, are you ticklish?” Sam asked, in amusement, as he applied the sponge a little more delicately to the patch of metal above the back window.

Clapping and cheers met his well-intentioned question, proving that Bumblebee was, indeed, ticklish. Sam shook his head, and grinned at the Autobot’s back window.

“Guess we’re not so much different, after all,” he murmured, and his comment was met with more cheers and claps.

Sam remained quiet after that, making notes of where Bumblebee was most sensitive, wondering as he did so, why a being made entirely of metal and servos even had ticklish spots anyway.


End file.
